


Sealed Fates: A Benjamin Tallmadge Romance

by mizmarymack



Category: Turn (TV 2014)
Genre: 18th Century, F/M, Revolutionary War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-23
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:28:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23803096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mizmarymack/pseuds/mizmarymack
Summary: Mary Floyd, daughter of Congressman William Floyd, works across various military camps organizing charity drives to provide soldiers and camp followers with necessary supplies: blankets, shoes, grain, and books for children.  At Washington's safe house and camp, Mary and Anna Strong collaborate on the best, most effective ways to distribute materials to those presiding in camp.  Most recently, Mary has requested a "camp pass" from the romantically interested, but distracted and overworked Ben Tallmadge so that she may travel across the various Continental Military camps more easily. Overwhelmed with the war, he overlooks her request. Determined, she forges a letter as Tallmage to Washington requesting said pass. *I was heavily inspired by the tent scene in season 4 between Mary Woodhull and Tallmadge. An angry suspicious Ben T. is a hot Ben T. It got me feeling some sort of way, so I just had to rewrite it from a romantic point of view. *this story is part of a series. new chapters posted regularly*
Relationships: Benjamin Tallmadge/Mary Floyd Tallmadge, Benjamin Tallmadge/Original Female Character(s), Benjamin Tallmadge/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Sealed Fates: A Benjamin Tallmadge Romance

"MARY."

goddamnit.

I turn quickly to see Ben and Caleb having pulled back the curtain of the tent. Ben's tent. They are clearly disturbed by my presence, and both wide-eyed; the Major immediately exasperated. But I'm quick. I tuck my hands behind the skirts of my dress.

"JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK," Ben pauses, noticing he's shouting and likely calling attention to my intrusion. He lowers his voice, closes the curtains of the tent, but still speaks with a slight bitterness,"you know you can't be here?!"

"I uhh," I'm scrambling for the right words because with this forged and very illegal letter in hand I can't exactly tell him the truth.

"Well, what have you got to say for yourself?" The Major's placed his hands above his hips, posture as stiff as a board; stern and waiting.

"Good question... I was...uhh... looking. For you. I needed to tell you a thing."

Caleb takes a seat, side-eyeing the Major. Ben tightens his glare, suspiciously studying me, waiting for my face to reveal my true intentions, and I feel my cheeks grow hot under his scrutiny. The Head of Intelligence. His piercing eyes. I know he senses something, he just doesn't know what it is... yet.

He sneers, "In my tent. Which you know is against camp rules." Horseshit, basically. Just nicer. A true gentleman through and through. "If someone saw you-"

"No one saw me. I was careful."

Ben pinches the bridge of his nose turning his back to me, as Caleb pulls a half-eaten apple from his trench coat pocket. He senses the lie too, and is clearly entertained. The lieutenant sits grinning, taking a bite as quietly as possible, waiting in anticipation for Ben's reaction, and for what's surely about to unfold.

Ben concedes,"What is it."

"What," still stalling.

"This thing you so urgently needed to tell me," he snaps sharply. The major is getting annoyed, and growing more impatient. I need to say something; anything will do at this point.

"Right. I heard some officers complaining about back pay - about Washington. Very frustrated. Very angry. Sounded treasonous," and I'm hoping this is a good enough deflection on my part. Ben loves Washington, and just the word 'treason'? Well, he's like a dog on the hunt: he can't help but follow the trail.

"Yes, I know about that, actually. It's no secret that Congress has yet to pay the soldiers... so that's it? That's all you needed to tell me. It couldn't have waited 'til later?"

abort. abort.

"You're right. My mistake. I'll just excuse myself now -"

"Wait - what's that?"

godDAMNit!

"What."

Ben stomps briskly towards me, irritated, reaches around my back, and rips the paper from my grasp, "'What'. This letter in your hand," and he waves the paper in my face. His steely blue eyes scan the page. His furrowing brow. My hands clench. A flash of heat rushes to my head, the back of my neck starts to sweat, and my face feels like it's on fire. so incredibly illegal. I'm mortified. Panic quickly sets in.

god have mercy. i promise i'll never do anything ever again...

"'sincerely, Major Benjamin Tallmadge of the 2nd Continental Dragoons,'" he checks the back of the paper, then the front again; he eyes his seal and his falsified signature; his jaw tightens. The major's eyes meet mine, and he speaks solemnly, "you wrote this?"

But we both know it isn't a question. He knows I wrote it. Maybe he doesn't want to believe I would, but needs to hear me admit it anyways. Ben's breath hitches in his throat and he swallows hard to clear it - he looks at me intently awaiting my response. Caleb squirms in his seat; looking at me, then to Ben, then back to me.

"Yes," and I can see the disappointment wash over Ben's face. It's heavy, accepting the burden of my violation, and shadowed with mistrust. His head drops slowly, and he settles his gaze to the ground.

When he glances at Caleb, the lieutenant slowly rises from his chair and starts backing slowly towards the exit, "Alright. Well. I'll, uh, excuse myself... check on some of the new recruits..." mutters, "let you two have your moment." Caleb ducks out of the tent, making sure to close the curtain entry all the way.

Ben isn't looking in my direction at all now - his back facing me, trying to hide his feelings. He doesn't trust me with them. Not anymore. I'm immediately flooded with feelings of remorse and shame. My hands shake nervously searching to comfort themselves. My fingers pinch awkwardly at the deep blue silk of my dress skirts. I'm too embarrassed to look at him, "Ben, I'm sorry."

He shakes his head incredulously, asks softly, "why'd you do it?"

"You know why."

"What - all this for the supply drive?"

I'm overcome with the images of the camp residents; their struggles, and suffering, and some of it very much avoidable, "For the soldiers, yes! And for the families at camp! And because even the children are starting to believe that no one cares if they're cold at night, or go days without eating."

Ben closes the distance between us, his voice rises from his chest, "So you perjured a letter from a commanding officer to the leader of the Continental Army?! Do you have any idea what the punishment is for this?!"

"Ben, I -"

"Hanging, Mary. We hang people. We've hanged people for less."

"But these people are going without when they might not have to! And, no one's doing anything to help them!" I'm speaking but I can tell he's not listening.

"Really? So this war. It's nothing. We're not doing anything to help anyone? What do you think we're fighting for? What is it that you think I'm working on day in, and day out? I don't sleep, Mary. I barely eat myself. And for all my hard work, do you know what my reward is?! I get to see my men die, and my family, my friends; I get to hear about their struggle under British occupation. I've been as close as a 4 hours ride from them, and I couldn't even visit home. For 3 years now. And, I won't be able to; not until this war is over." He brushes his hands through the fallen strands of hair back out of his face. I notice now the stacks of reports on his desk, on his bed, and on the ground; dark circles developing under his blue eyes. His face, palid; the stress taking its toll.

"I - I'm sorry," he adds almost breathlessly, "I know that's not what you meant. I'm just ... " and he struggles to find the words. The man's tired.

"No, I know. I'm just trying to help these people the only way I know how."

There's a flash of outrage in Ben's eyes but I can see he's trying to temper it, "so you're not really sorry then."

"I'm sorry for hurting you -"

Ben scoffs at this, sneering, "'hurting me-'"

"I know I betrayed your trust, and I wish I could take that back... but -"

"There's a 'but,'" he shakes his head.

I hesitate before admitting, "I don't regret 'perjuring a letter from a commanding officer'. But, I'm sorry that I falsified the letter as you. I never wanted to hurt you, and you have every right to be angry with me. "

Ben flicks his head in my direction,"Wait. You think I'm angry because you wrote the letter as me?"

"Aren't you? I'm confused."

"No. That's not why I'm angry," Ben rubs his chin. He does this alot when he thinks.

"I'm angry because of the danger you put yourself in when you falsified this military document," he says more calmly, and examines the details of the letter, "see, this right here," I look on with him as he points at the 8th line, "You list Litchfield and Newington townships as encampments sites. Mary, those encampments were moved weeks ago. Washington knows that I'd know that. You would've been caught."

goddamnit.

I sigh, shrug and struggle against a smile,"I'm new to committing fraud. Everyone has to start somewhere."

"That's not funny."

"It's a little funny."

"It's cute. It's not funny," Ben almost cracks a smile, "and, I wouldn't be laughing if something happened to -" and he stops himself short, clearing his throat.

I look at the letter. Strange how one simple piece of paper with some ink scrawled on it's face could be so life-changing... to seal one's fate, "No one was helping me. I was on my own, so I felt I had to. But, now I know I was stupid in doing it, and I'll never do it again."

"'Had to'" he chuckles, "I don't think you realize the mess it could've put both of us in."

I try to piece together his meaning, "You would've been obligated to report me. How would we have 'both' been in trouble?"

Ben looks up, confused, "What. You actually think I'd report you?" And when I don't respond, his weight shifts slightly, tilting away and he looks physically uncomfortable. This is very strange for a man as confident, or as smug, as Ben; and it's something I'd not seen from him before.

He hesitates, "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I don't think I would - or could... and for that the hangman would've had to set up two nooses."

I'm shocked, and I'm sure my face shows it, "You would've done that? That's - are you feeling okay?"

"Mary, I -" Ben cuts himself off again, "It's not your fault."

For a moment I think I misheard him, "what."

"This isn't your fault. It's mine."

"How is any of this your fault?"

"Because I didn't help you when you asked," Ben starts tearing up the evidence, places the pieces in a bin, and walks back, "It would've taken some time with the paperwork, getting the camp pass, but it would've been worth it if it meant helping you, and I'm stupid for not realizing that... and," he hesitates before gently taking my hands in his, his eyes locked into mine, "if we're talking about betraying trust, I betrayed yours first when you trusted me to support you, and I didn't, and for that I'm sorry."

"Ben, it's okay -"

"I'm not finished..."

"...okay."

"I want to be the one you can come to with your problems because you're important to me and because I care about you, Mary. I need you to know that... before you go off committing more war crimes and getting yourself caught," he smiles. A real smile. Not an open, toothy, goofy one, but not a grim grin, or a side smirk either. It's nice. And his hands... they feel ... safe? warm. sweaty... but still nice. This is a new side of him I hadn't seen before, and it's stirring something in me that I think I'd always felt. I just never really paid too close attention.

I clear my throat, my hands still in his,"... so does this mean you're going to get me my pass?"

Ben laughs, raspy from his throat, "yes, I'm going to get you that pass. As long as you promise me that you'll keep yourself out of trouble."

A reasonable enough request, so I shrug,"If I can help it, yes."

"Caleb, you can come in now," Ben lets go of my hand and pulls back the curtain to reveal the Lieutenant standing there, hands held innocently behind him. He tilts his hat towards us, "Glad you two love birds could get that all settled. For a minute there I thought Mary was going to have a go at you, Tallboy."

I grab a crumpled paper on the ground, and throw it, aiming at Caleb's head, "Spying, Caleb - I might have to have a go at you."

"Promise?"

Grabbing Caleb sharply on his shoulder Ben smiles, but advises, "Easy, lieutenant..."

That's when Caleb grabs Ben by his sleeve, and I can almost hear what he's whispering,"It's our friend in New York. French Raspberry Brandy."

Apparently this means something to Ben. Something urgent. Important. He snatches a journal tucked under his pillow, nodding at Caleb before he turns to me, somber and serious, "I have to go. You should be off as well -- before anyone sees you," he places a hand on the side of my face, pulling my gaze to his, "remember your promise, right? I'll remember mine." I can feel his breath on my lips, but he pulls away smiling. 

EPILOGUE:

It's after the war. Ben has been working tirelessly with Congress trying to gain funding to set up public education for the children of Connecticut. A book by M. Floyd is in the process of being published. It's a children's book. And, looking back today, on our wedding day, I think it's strange how one simple piece of paper with some ink scrawled on it's face can be so life-changing... to seal one's fate.

TO BE CONTINUED...


End file.
